Leslie Philibert (6th March 1954 / London, England)
Thrown is earth;
weightless through an open palm,
petals mixed with shouts,
a door closed; the sky locked down.
You grew from inside,
walkers from a far rock.
The way is a river of courage,
dark eyed for a single-voiced lament.
You do not fear the eyeless.
Your names are soaked with honour,
the holy deluge of humanity.
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